The Pretty Committee Strikes Back (10 page)

“I know you've been waiting for me,” Massie insisted. “I'm ready now.”

“Uh, cool.” Dylan stuffed the green wand back into its pink tube and dropped it in her purse.

“Whatever.” Derrington shook his head. “I guess I'll see you on the bus.”

He walked away slowly, as if he were hoping Massie might try to stop him. But what could she possibly say? “I'm sorry I didn't know where to put my arm?” “I'm sorry I moved away from you but I don't like being corrected in front of my public?” “Wait, don't leave me?” She wanted to say it all. Instead she watched him leave.

“What's
his
problem?” Dylan asked.

Massie turned around to see if the girls were still watching her. But they were gone too. They must have assumed the show was over when Derrington left.

“Just typical boy drama.” Massie sounded as if she had seen and done it all.

“You're so lucky.” Dylan sighed. “I wish I had some drama in my life. I'm so bored.” She hoisted up her jeans, even though they weren't really falling down.

“It's your lucky day.” Massie pointed to the black stretch limo that was pulling into the parking lot. Dylan's famous mother, Merri-Lee Marvil, was in the very back, with her face sticking out the window. Her long red curls were blowing around her pink Chanel Strass sunglasses. “Dylly!” she shouted and waved.

“Hide me.” Dylan covered her eyes.

“Too late.” Massie couldn't help laughing. “I think she sees you.”

“Oh Gawd,” Dylan moaned.

The limo pulled up beside them and the driver shut off the engine. A white
Daily Grind
van with a satellite dish on top rolled up behind them. Everyone stopped what they had been doing and focused on Dylan's famous mother.

It wasn't long before half the girls in the grade were dialing their mothers to fill them in on their celebrity sighting.

“Dyll Pickles!” Merri-Lee shouted. “You have no idea how fast we drove to get here.”

Dylan's face turned the color of her hair.

“You didn't have to come,” Dylan snapped in a hushed tone. But her mother was so busy smiling for her fans and posing for cell phone pictures that she didn't bother responding.

“Mom,” Dylan snapped. “I hate to rush off but we have to board the bus.” She hugged her mother as quickly as she could. “I'll call as soon as we get there.”

“Uh, good to see you, Mrs. Marvil.” Massie smiled sweetly as Dylan pulled her away. “Oh, my mother loved the piece you did on Pilates for pets.”

“Well, then, I'm sure she'll adore the Mother's Day story we're about to shoot.” Merri-Lee clapped her hands together with childlike enthusiasm. She looked back at her driver. He was standing beside the limo with his hands clasped behind his back. “Franco, why don't you take my bags down to that bus over there? I'm sure someone will take pity and help you unload them.”

“Very well, Mrs. Marvil.” He got back in the car and drove away. The white
Daily Grind
van followed.

Merri-Lee turned to face the girls. Her surgically enhanced lips curled at the sides, like she had a secret inside her mouth that was fighting to free itself.

“Bags?” Dylan asked. “Why do you have bags?”

“Surprise!” Merri-Lee threw her thin arms above her head like a Vegas showgirl jumping out of a cake. She grabbed Dylan's shoulders with her long fingers and shook her with unbridled excitement. “I'm going to Lake Placid with you.”

“What?” Dylan and Massie exclaimed together.

“I know, isn't it great?” She beamed. “I'm doing a story on mother-daughter bonding, and your geography teacher said I could tag along with my crew. He's a sexy one, isn't he?”

“Ew.” Dylan winced.

Massie turned her head and giggled nervously.

“Where is the mountain man? I need to introduce him to the crew.” Merri-Lee snapped opened her diamond-studded compact and quickly powdered her dewy complexion. “You and I will have plenty of time to hang when we get there.” She kissed her daughter on the forehead and ran away on her tippy-toes, leaving a heavy cloud of Lancôme's Trésor behind her.

“I am so not going,” Dylan declared to Massie once they were alone.

“Why?” Massie snickered. “This is exactly what you wanted.”

“Huh?”

“You said you needed something to worry about, didn't you?”

Dylan rolled her eyes and let Massie pull her toward the bus.

Mr. Myner cupped his hands around his mouth. “Let's go!” he shouted.

Massie could feel the prickly sweats coming back as she got closer to Derrington. Interacting with him in person was a billion times more nerve-racking than e-mailing him after school. Hopefully her deodorant was up for the challenge.

The girls from MUCK stood in a cluster, staring at the ever-shrinking space between Massie and Derrington. Once again, Massie found strength in the presence of a captive audience.

“Are we sitting together?” Massie heard herself ask Derrington. His eyes widened and he looked around him to make sure she was actually speaking to him. “Well, are we?”

Dylan pinched her forearm. She was ahb-viously impressed.

“Uh, yeah.” He started to smile. “Totally.”

“Cool,” Massie said. “Let's go to the back.”

The girls from MUCK made kissing noises and followed closely behind them, wanting a seat near the action.

Alicia, Olivia, Claire, and Layne had already taken all the plush seats in the back except for two, which they were saving for Massie and Dylan.

“Oh no, I guess there aren't enough seats for all of us.” Massie tried to sound upset.

“That sucks.” Derrington smacked one of the TV screens that hung down from the ceiling.

“Dude!” Josh shouted. “Sit here.”

Derrington slid his blue backpack off his shoulder and was about to stuff it in the overhead rack when Merri-Lee butted in.

“Dylan, why don't you ride up front with me and Cole?” She giggled. “I mean Mr. Myner.”

“No, thanks, I'm good,” Dylan insisted. “They already saved a seat for me in the back.”

“That would be perfect.” Derrington grabbed his backpack. “If you sit up here, then I can sit with Block.”

Massie felt his warm hand on her shoulder again. “How long is the ride?” she asked Mr. Myner.

“Five hours.”

Massie froze. It would have been perfect if Derrington were a few seats away, admiring her from afar while she interacted with her friends. But sitting face-to-face with him for five hours was not something she was prepared to do. What if he wanted to hold her hand or make out?

“Come on, Pickles.” Merri-Lee patted the velvety cushion next to her.

Dylan plopped herself down, folded her arms across her chest, and turned toward the window.

“Ihopeyouwaxedyourmustachethismorning.” Carrie winked as Massie and Derrington passed her on their way to the back.

“What did she just say?” Derrington asked.

“Who knows?” Massie rolled her eyes.

Alexandra and Livvy smeared their lips with Glossip Girl and puckered up. It wasn't long before everyone on the bus was making kissing noises. Massie wanted to die, especially when Derrington wrapped his hands around his back and massaged his spine, so it looked like he was making out with someone. The kissing noises quickly turned to laughter.

Without thinking, Massie slapped Derrington on the butt.

“Ow.” He rubbed it and gave a little wiggle.

Everyone roared with laughter. Massie blew her palm as if it were a smoking gun, stuffed it in the front pocket of her jeans, and casually took her seat, like slapping boys' butts was something she did all the time. The truth was, she'd done it to punish Derrington for making her feel so awkward and uncomfortable. But no one needed to know that. They seemed to think the slap was playful and flirty, a show of real confidence. And that was perfectly fine with her.

“What was
that
all about?” Derrington chuckled. He rubbed his butt, then slid in beside her.

“Watch yourself,” Massie said, summoning her inner vixen. “There's more of that on the way if you don't behave yourself.”

“Promise?” Derrington's brown eyes flickered.

Massie quickly turned to the window, pretending to have missed his comment.

“Who's ready for three days at Lake Placid?” Mr. Myner stood at the front of the bus with a proud smile.

Everyone exploded in a round of cheers and applause.

“Are you sure?” he joked. “Because there's no turning back now.”

Massie sneaked a peek at Derrington from the corner of her eye. He had two freckles on his upper jaw, by his left ear. She had noticed them before and thought they were ah-dorable. But now that they were so close to her face, they seemed menacing. She shook her head and turned back to the window.

The doors hissed as the driver pulled them shut. He started the engine and eased the bus out of the lot.

Massie took a deep breath and sighed.

“You okay?” Derrington touched her arm lightly.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” She gathered her hair in a ponytail, then let it fall. “Uh, I just get a little carsick. I think I need to rest my head for a minute.”

“Okay.” Derrington slipped off his green Burton snowboard jacket, balled it up, and handed it to Massie so she could use it as a pillow.

“Thanks.” Massie tried to smile. She propped the jacket up against the window and rested her head against it. The nylon felt rough against her cheek, but Massie still managed to stay in that exact position for the next five hours.

LAKE PLACID, NEW YORK FOREVER WILD CAMPSITE

Monday, February 23rd 1:13
P.M.

“Smile,” Claire said as she snapped another picture with her digital camera for what seemed like the nine millionth time since they'd stepped off the bus.

“It's so beautiful here,” she said. It was the happiest Massie had seen her since the whole Cam incident had gone down a week earlier.

“Okay, how about one of us over here by the fire pit?” Massie reached for Dylan and Alicia. It felt weird not to have Kristen there, like Massie had forgotten to pack her toothbrush or something.

“Enough with the pictures already,” Dylan snapped.

She was still cranky from the five hours she'd spent listening to Mr. Myner and her mother blab on about all of the “romantic European cities” and “sensual exotic foods” Merri-Lee had been exposed to over the years thanks to her “deeply satisfying career.”

“Look at the mountains behind us.” Claire clicked away. “They're so big and snowy.”

“Pace yourself, Kuh-laire, we haven't even seen the inside of our cabins yet,” Massie said.

“I know, but this is so incredible.” Claire took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before snapping her final picture. A puff of white steam escaped from her mouth.

It was much colder in the Adirondacks than it had been in Westchester, and none of the Pretty Committee girls had dressed for the crisp mountain air. They had opted for something a little more “winter-lite” instead; tight V-neck sweaters and earth-toned turtlenecks, moccasin boots and dark jeans. Claire was the only exception, in her baby blue puffy jacket, L. L. Bean Storm Chasers, and red wool Gap turtleneck.

“Can we please go to our cabins and change?” Alicia was bouncing up and down trying to stay warm.

“Can you please keep doing that?” Chris Plovert said as he hobbled by.

Alicia folded her arms across her chest. “As soon as you learn to walk, gimp.”

The girls high-fived Alicia and laughed.

The five wood cabins on Forever Wild campsite looked out on Lake Placid, a mass of fresh water that was so clean and clear you could see the red and silver rocks glistening on the bottom. The cabins formed a semi-circle around a wide fire pit that offered dozens of tree stumps as stools for sitting and roasting marshmallows. At the foot of the pit was a thin sliver of caramel-colored sand that lined the mouth of the lake like lip liner.

“Welcome to paradise,” Mr. Myner said.

But no one seemed impressed. They were too busy rubbing their arms, trying to stay warm while Mr. Dingle, Briarwood's geography teacher, searched the grounds for Gus, their mysterious contact person with the keys to the cabins.

Massie was relieved that Derrington and the boys had run off to explore the hiking trails. It gave her a minute to regroup. Faking nausea for five hours had made her feel a little sick.

“Did you know Lake Placid was the site of the 1980 winter Olympics?” Mr. Myner boasted. His extra-fuzzy Patagonia pullover was still tied around his waist and he donned a pair of mirrored sunglasses with a yellow neon string attached to the arms. His nose and lips were slathered in white zinc to keep the sun off. “We are standing in the winter sports capital of the world.”

“Zzzzzzzz,” Massie said, barely loud enough for her friends to hear.

“You don't think this is cool?” Claire asked.

“It's cold!” Alicia stuffed her hands under her armpits.

Mr. Dingle came racing back, shaking a big round ring of keys. His big square glasses were lopsided and his potbelly jiggled as he ran. He looked like a bobblehead next to Mr. Myner.

“Who's ready to see where we're going to be living for the next three days?” Mr. Myner took the keys from Mr. Dingle and dangled them in the air like a cat toy.

“I can't believe he thinks zinc is a good look,” Alicia whispered. “What an LBR.”

Massie leaned in toward Dylan and whispered in her ear, “If that doesn't turn your mom off, nothing will.”

“Then I guess nothing will,” Dylan said. “Look.” She pointed at Merri-Lee, who was in the middle of pulling the mirrored sunglasses off Mr. Myner's gooey nose so she could try them on. James, her cameraman, was right beside her, shooting.

“James,” Merri-Lee hissed. “Don't get me, get the girls.” She shooed him away impatiently.

“Ew.” Dylan held her stomach like she was about to barf. “I'll never be able to eat again. I'll be a size zero when I get back.”

Massie saw Derrington lead a pack of boys out from the woods behind the cabins. “I know what you mean.”

“Ladies first,” Mr. Myner said, leading the girls to their-sleeping quarters. He unlocked the wooden door and they stepped inside.

“No way, this is so Ralph Lauren,” said Strawberry, whose real name was Coral McAdams. Massie wasn't sure if the LBR had gotten her nickname because she dyed her hair pink or because her face was always turning red thanks to her psycho temper. She could have asked but didn't care enough to bother.